'Ha ha, what's money if not to spend, I always say!'
'Well, gee, thanks Ralph… thanks a lot!'
'Don't mention it, my boy! Don't mention it!' Ralph picked up the Polaroid and opened it up. 'I've got one just like it, Howie. Had nothing but fun with it. Hand me a roll of film there, and I'll show you how it works.'
The balance of the evening was spent in snapping pictures of each other and Ralph showing his star salesman the intricacies of the adjustments and flash. The rest of the champagne was consumed, and then everybody switched to bourbon or scotch, and at one point Cindy, feeling the double effects of the alcohol and the overwhelming generosity of her husband's employer, had her picture taken while bussing Ralph lightly on the cheek. One minute later everybody took turns looking at sweet lips touching the now slightly alcoholic reddened cheeks of Ralph, while he was grinning from ear to ear into the eye of the lens.
Howard saw it, and strangely, perversely, an odd feeling crept into his body. He studied the shot, seeing for the first time his wife kissing another man. He was not jealous, not in the least. It was all done in innocence and in the spirit of the occasion, but still, it was a novel experience, as she had never allowed herself even this slight intimacy with anyone before. It somehow strangely excited him… and then he passed the photo to Norma and the tingling went away.
Later, as Norma and Cindy were talking of womanly things in the living room, he and Ralph ended up in the kitchen together, mixing drinks. He was still overcome by the magnitude of the gift and said so. 'Wait until your anniversary, Ralph. I'll put on the party and…'
'Cut it out, Howie, my boy. Glad to do it. Just seeing you and that wonderful wife of yours having fun is enough for me.' He put his arm around Howard's shoulder. 'I really like you, my boy. You've done a fine job at Auto Circus, a fine job. You deserve a nice present, you really do.'
Howard, embarrassed, murmured his thanks for the compliment. He could feel his face flush.
'Now tell you what I'm going to do for you, Howie,' his boss said, a peculiar leer transforming his face to an almost satyr-like countenance, 'I'm going to give you a little hint.'
'Yes?' Howard thought it might be about the job. Some inside information which would help his career. He listened eagerly. 'What is it, Ralph?'
'Use the camera… in the bedroom!' Ralph said, and then started to laugh. 'Get some real nice candid shots of the ol' wifey!'
'What?' Howard backed away, both shocked and embarrassed by his boss's suggestion. His off-color jokes were one thing, but never had he spoken so bluntly! It must be the liquor in him, all that champagne and bourbon… 'I don't know what you mean, Ralph,' he said. The idea of Ralph's was unthinkable! 'Perhaps we'd better go in the living room and…'
'You mean to tell me you didn't think of the possibilities?' came the reply, interrupting Howard. 'C'mon, Howie, boy,' his boss chided, 'that's the beauty of the camera. You don't have to take the film in to be developed. Whatever you shoot a picture of is all your own affair.' He nudged Howard with his elbow, winking as he did so. 'See what I mean now?'
Howard knew his face was flame red. Sure, he realized what Ralph had in mind; he wasn't naive! But to think of lowering his wife to such things, like… like she was some nudie model in a man's magazine! 'Please, Ralph,' he said, squirming uncomfortably, 'the girls are waiting.'
'All right,' Ralph said, suddenly sobering. He picked up his glass and started for the living room, a small hint of indignation in his voice. 'But I'm telling you, there's nothing to be ashamed of, using the Polaroid for… special shots of each other. Everybody who has one has the same ideas. Really turns the gals on too!'
Howard followed Ralph into the other room, strangely silent. He loved, revered and yes, respected his wife. The lewd implications of Ralph's suggestions burned his brain, and he was as ashamed for his wife's sake as he was for himself. He liked sex, loved making it with his wife… but gutter-talk and locker room snickerings about their private love life were another matter…
Yet his emotions were ambivalent. The high-principled resolve not to court his wife's indignation and hurt by even mentioning the incident just now to her wouldn't blend with a remembrance of the picture of her kissing his boss. The photograph grew from a hazy thought to a crystal-clear portrait of her soft, tapered body bending to passionate responsiveness. That strange tingling in his groin began again at the thought, and a slight jerk of his penis told him that he was getting excited.
Stop it, he told himself… this is absolutely crazy, thinking like this… but still Ralph's seed-like suggestion whirled in Howard's brain, gathering momentum, and when he looked at his wife sitting on the couch, he couldn't help mentally stripping her of her clothes and seeing her as if in a photo…
By the time the Taylors paid their respects and said goodbye, Howard was filled with lustful dreams of Cindy nude and voluptuous on the bed, standing on the bedroom rug, stretched out on the couch. Quickly he downed another scotch to try and steady his nerves, and mentally berating himself for such lascivious preoccupations.
Besides, he knew damned well that if he ever dared to suggest such activities, Cindy would be righteously indignant. Surely not that! Not on this night of their anniversary! Still the images came back to haunt him. He groaned, feeling his cock suddenly begin to ache with anticipatory excitement.
'That was nice, wasn't it, sweetheart?' Cindy said, cuddling up to him. 'And the camera. How can we ever repay them?' Her words were slightly slurred, a condition which always happened to her after the third drink. It didn't mean she was drunk, Howard knew, but that she was high and feeling good.
'Sure, Cindy,' he said, trembling. There was a pulsing hardness in his loins now, and without really knowing that he was saying it, he said to her, 'Say, honey, are you tired yet?'
'No… not really.'
'Well, let's fool around with the camera some more.' He grinned at her, realizing that the liquor had gotten to him, too. 'You know, just a couple of shots now that they're gone.'
'All right,' she said brightly. She went to the couch and sat down, crossing her legs and placing her hands on her knees after smoothing her skirt. 'Maybe one we can send my folks.'
'Right!' Howard quickly snapped a few innocent ones, but his mind was on the ones he wanted to take…
'How about moving the skirt up a bit now?' he suggested casually.
'My… my skirt?' His wife looked uncertain. 'I… I don't know, Howie. Do you think it would look right?'
Howard waved his hand as if to shrug off the worry. 'Ah, who's to see? The picture would stay right here, honey. Just you and me.' He smiled reassuringly. 'Go on, raise the skirt.'
'All… right, if you want,' his pretty young wife replied, and bunched the material in the folds of her waist. She would never have consented to do this, she realized, if it hadn't been for the liquor she'd consumed. It seemed to loosen her strict moral code… perhaps dangerously? No, there wasn't anything to worry about. If her husband wanted a picture of her like this, then why not? It was no different than one in her bathing suit, was it? 'But promise me,' she added, 'promise you won't take it out of the house.'
'Never,' he replied. He held his breath and snapped the shutter. Then one minute later he sat down with her and showed her the portrait, and he found himself breathing harshly as he admired the smooth, firm swell of her naked thighs as she sat almost nude from the pelvis down… the aching built steadily in his pants… he quickly got up, trying to shield the now quite apparent bulge. 'Let's take some more like that! It was fun!'
'Howie…' came the plea, but he ignored it.
'Put your legs up on the couch. That's it. Now lean back and arch your back so that your breasts are out…' He feverishly sighted the camera. 'There! That's it! Yes!' Click!
Howard impatiently waited for the film to develop, and then he gazed with ever-increasing excitement at the photo. 'Hot damn!' he said chokingly under his breath, 'Ralph was right!'
'Let me see, Howie,' Cindy asked, and he handed her the color shot. She gasped, never before seeing herself so provocatively posed, so… sexy! Redness creeped up from her breasts and neck and enflamed her cheeks. 'Howie!' she gasped, but her eyes were still glued to her picture. She was stretched out on the cushions just as before, her firm, ripe, quivering breasts straining against the binders of bra and dress… her lips glistening wetly where she had moistened them with her pink tongue seconds earlier… and her sun-tanned legs and thighs were exposed in all their dark silkiness…
'Another!' Howard commanded hoarsely. 'This time lie down and lean forward.' He fingered the camera in anticipation. 'I want to see your breasts,' he blurted in his excitement.
'Howie! What a thing to say!' Yet in spite of her indignation, she did as he bid. For some unexplainable reason, this moral and most proper young woman — a sensual female only in the darkened confines of her marital
